Poetry

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I can see the veins in a leaf from a sycamore tree
I can see the various colors in a peacocks tail
I marvel at the clouds floating in the sea of blue
In all these things I can see you

I can feel compassion for a homeless stranger
While impulse sways me from harm and danger
I receive the answers to my secret prayers
In all these things, I can tell you are there

For you are the Creator of all things
We all bear your signature, your markings
I can see you My Lord, not physically
I can see you in all your creativity

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